


Rockets’ Red Glare

by armadillosunset



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Fireworks, Fluff, Fourth of July, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, fluffy little one shot, harry hates fireworks, louis takes care of his baby, me thinking I’m a hilarious genius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armadillosunset/pseuds/armadillosunset
Summary: Harry Styles hates fireworks. It is known.But Louis always comes through for his baby, even if he doesn’t know he needs it.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	Rockets’ Red Glare

**Author's Note:**

> When writing this fic, I considered myself to be the most genius, most hilarious person to walk the earth in that moment.
> 
> Because this is a Fourth of July/American Independence Day fic involving two Brits with 1776 words.
> 
> Thank you, thank you. Try the soup, I’m here all week.
> 
> This was supposed to be set this year, and I wrote most of it before everything in the world got canceled. The cities probably aren’t right for the old tour schedules anyway, haha.
> 
> Enjoy!~

Finally. A day off. 

Harry smiled as he shuffled across his hotel room to the little kitchen—a generous term for what was a mini fridge, a microwave, and some cabinets. He popped a pod into the little coffee maker and waited for it to brew with a good stretch and a yawn. It was a bit after noon already, but it had been utter bliss to sleep without an alarm set to wake him up. And when he had woken, he continued to lay in the large hotel bed, enjoying the comfort and plushness of the sheets before finally caving to his desire for caffeine and something to eat.

Once the coffee was done, he sat himself down in front of the large television, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, his steaming mug in one hand and the remote in the other. A nice movie or three sounded lovely on this self-imposed lazy afternoon. No interviews, no shows, no commitments that required him to leave the room or talk to anyone. Just himself, unlimited room service, and the bounty of streaming television at his fingertips.

As he was searching for his second movie of the afternoon, after a break for room service and a fresh cup of coffee, his phone began to vibrate on the counter top behind him. Harry groaned as he got up to retrieve the device. If this was someone from his team attempting to ruin his day off with a last minute PR event or pop up show...

Picking up the phone, Harry smiled as he looked at the caller’s picture, pleasantly surprised. Definitely not someone from his team scheduling a last minute something or other. He couldn’t help but keep the smile as he answered the phone, taking a sip of coffee. “Hey, darling.”

“Harry, tell this piece of shit of a front desk clerk to let me come up!” The familiar voice squawked through the tiny speaker, making Harry choke on his coffee. Pissed-off Louis was definitely not what Harry was expecting when he took the call.

He and Louis had talked on the phone only just last night and Louis was perfectly fine, telling Harry about his flight and various tidbits of where he was staying. They called each other practically every night, or texted at the very least, because they always did. But Harry wasn’t complaining. With two hectic tour schedules between them, he was more than willing to take every opportunity that was given to him to hear Louis’ voice and have his attention, even if only for a little bit.

“W-What?” He sputtered back, coffee dribbling down his chin which he wiped at with his shirt. “You’re here?”

“Well, I would be if someone would just tell me your room number already!” Louis’ voice overloaded the speaker once more. Harry could hear the desk man in the background try to explain, for probably the tenth time because Louis was nothing if not persistent, that it was against policy to disclose such information. “Didn’t you put me on the list of approved guests?”

“You’re supposed to be in Chicago!” Harry was rightly confused at this moment. He had just, physically, seen Louis only a couple days ago, when they both ‘just happened’ to have an entire day layover between flights in New York. Their usual two week agreement was fulfilled for the time being.

But, again, Harry wasn’t complaining.

“Well, I’m not. ‘M ‘ere. And I ain’t moving ‘til I get up there—SO QUIT YA NAGGING YA OLD MAN.” Harry imagined his tiny Louis shouting to the line of people behind him, phone pressed to his head. When Louis was properly angry he stopped holding back his heavy northern accent, his words becoming so accented even Harry needed to concentrate at times to understand what exactly Louis was saying—or yelling, for that matter.

Harry rubbed a hand to the side of his face, still smiling. “Stop making a scene, Lou.”

“‘M not—“

“Yeah, you are. I know you, remember? Now give the nice man at the desk your phone so I can talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘e’s ‘nice’—“

“Lou,” Harry lowered his voice in warning.

There was some indistinguishable grumbling as Louis handed the phone over and the employee’s nervous voice filled the line. Regardless of his small stature and his usual pleasant nature, Louis could be extremely intimidating when he wanted to be. “Mr. Styles, I’m so very sorry! I didn’t know—“

“No, no. It’s fine. This was my fault, I didn’t think he’d try to surprise me. Let him come up. I’m so sorry for him—well, his everything.” He thanked the man once more while he profusely apologized to Harry and handed the phone back. “See you in a few. Kisses.” He hung up the phone before Louis could protest.

With a bounce in his step, Harry made his way over to the door, opening it and standing in the doorway, looking in the direction of the lifts. He took another sip of his coffee as he waited for his beloved Louis to round the corner. After a few agonizing moments, there he was, a small duffel half slung over his shoulder.

“Seriously. How do they not know who I am?!” Louis huffed as he made it within talking distance. “These idiots literally never heard of One Direction? The biggest boy and in history. Are we already that irrelevant? Honestly.”

“We’re mortal enemies, remember?” Harry gave a small chuckle as he wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders when he passed through the doorway. Louis instantly snatched the coffee cup from Harry’s hand, taking a drink as they walked. He gave a disgusted choke as he swallowed.

“Coffee, Harry? Really? Be a proper Brit and drink some tea. Today especially.” He shoved the mug back into Harry’s hands and tossed the duffel onto the kitchen table.

“You make it better than I can.” Harry gave a small pout to which Louis smiled and made his way over to the counter to grab two more mugs. He smiled yet again as he watched the other work, popping around for water, searching the cabinets for tea. 

That was the thing about Louis, no matter how foul of a mood Harry was in, or if he wasn’t in any sort of mood at all, Louis always made a smile appear on his face simply by existing. His existence was calming, soothing, in a way Harry could only describe as going home after a long day.

Unable to take it anymore, Harry stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Louis from behind, pressing a kiss just below the man’s ear, rewarding him with a small giggle of delight, before nuzzling his face into Louis’ neck. “I love that you’re surprising me and all, but, why? We just saw each other. And aren’t you supposed to be performing tonight in Chicago?”

“Mm, had a show, past tense now—just a small one, really. It’s my turn to use the age old ‘vocal rest’ excuse. You need me more right now.”

“I do?” Harry paused from trailing his nose over Louis’ ear. “I mean, I do, I always do. But, I do?”

Louis gave a small sigh. “Yes, you do. I’m guessing you don’t know what today is?”

“Satur...day?”

“The date, love. The date.”

The date? Harry did a quick mental rundown of the various anniversaries he and Louis shared, as well as the dates special to them individually. Nothing was coming up particularly soon, not until the end of the month anyway. “The fourth. Why? I don’t understand.” 

Harry’s brows knit together as Louis turned around in his arms. Small, icy fingers trailed up under Harry’s shirt, lightly squeezing the bare skin just above his hips. “Sun. Baby. Love of my life. Father of my future children.” Louis gazed upwards, his crystal blue eyes captivating Harry’s attention. “You are in Boston, one of America’s oldest, most patriotic cities. On the Fourth of July. American Independence Day.”

“Oh. It’s a holiday.” Harry had hoped it would make sense after a few moments, where exactly Louis was going with this. But no matter how he tried, he still couldn’t quite fit the pieces together as to how it meant he needed Louis this particular day—the tea comment, however, made sense now. “I’m sorry, I still don’t understand.”

“Harry,” the beautiful man grumbled, rolling his eyes. He tightened his grip, tiny fingers gently pinching Harry’s skin, the sensation strangely calming, grounding. “Fireworks, love. Loads of ‘em. All night.”

Harry’s eyes widened at the words. Fireworks. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them; they were beautiful to watch, wonderful colors lighting up the night sky, the various shapes mesmerizing. It was just... the sound. They were so very loud. It wasn’t just the noise of them—Harry could cover his ears or try to find some of those noise canceling headphones—it was the sudden vibrations that wracked his body that were unnerving, making something inside him tighten with panic. You couldn’t escape that without leaving the show, and the area, entirely.

Everyone made fun of him for it. His sister, his friends, even those he toured with—then and now. Everyone except Louis. Sure, he had laughed the first time it happened, like everyone else. But as soon as Louis saw that Harry was scared, well and truly scared, he swooped in and wrapped himself around Harry’s small frame as he crouched on the ground his hands clamped over his ears. Louis nudged one of the hands away and whispered calming words in Harry’s ear as they finished watching the show together. “It’s okay, Haz. I’ve got you. Your Loubear’s got you.”

Louis gave Harry similar reassuring words now as they stood in the hotel room’s kitchenette. “See, I know when my baby needs me, even when he doesn’t. I’ve always got you, H. I’ll always take care—.” Louis suddenly gave a small huff, his tone changing from soothing calm to mild annoyance as he gave Harry a quick pinch to his hip. “Can you stop being tall for, like, three seconds so I can kiss you in this tender moment?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Harry had been lost in his mind, his thoughts swirling around the sudden development of an entire night of loud, ear-splitting fireworks. He dipped his head down for Louis to reach.

“Much better,” Louis smiled, standing up just a smidge on his toes to close the gap between them, squeezing Harry’s sides for balance. “Now then. I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed Harry squarely on the lips


End file.
